


True Love Never Ends

by House_of_the_Lion



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Beautiful Golden Fools, Bibliothèque de Fictions Défi de lecture, F/M, Past Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, sur votre 31
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 16,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26734879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/House_of_the_Lion/pseuds/House_of_the_Lion
Summary: The greatest love stories are those that never end...Collection of 20 drabbles for the challenge ''Sur Votre 31'' of the Facebook page ''Bibliothèque de Fictions''.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Comments: 29
Kudos: 57





	1. As golden as sun

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a collection of 20 drabbles written for the challenge ''Sur Votre 31'' of the French Facebook page ''Bibliothèque de Fictions''.
> 
> Some of these stories are complements to others of my fanfictions, so they will be added to my work as one-shots.
> 
> For all this collection, I advise you to listen [Cersei & Jaime (Reorchestrated) ](https://youtu.be/mGTBG32BZMI) by Kyle Preston  
> Enjoy reading !

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime had always loved Cersei's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Hair''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Jaime had always loved Cersei's hair.

Her long golden hair.

He could still remember how, as a child, he would spend hours combing it, sliding his hand through it and feeling it between his fingers.

When they had grown up, their father had fought them severely, because Jaime much preferred the gold in Cersei's hair to the gold in the Casterly Rock accounts. The eldest son of such a prominent family, as large as the Lannisters, had to learn swordfighting, horseback riding, strategy and bookkeeping, rather than "play with dolls" with his sister.

This had never stopped him from continuing. He had cherished those moments spent with Cersei, when they managed to escape their lessons, in the gardens of Casterly Rock, to slip the flowers he picked into her hair.

When she had married Robert, and had become queen, she had hardly ever worn her crown, which, matched with her husband's, represented antlers.

She didn't need it. Her hair was her crown, a golden crown, a Lannister crown. Not a deer crown. When you owned a lioness' mane, you could not afford to look like a common prey. And that's what Cersei was. A lioness.

Jaime remembered how, when the two of them got together, he would caress her hair as golden as the sun itself, gently chasing it away from her porcelain face. How he would bury his hands and his face in it at the supreme moment, when they became one in every possible way imaginable.

He could not describe the emotion he felt at the birth of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen, with their big green eyes and gold curls. Although he could never have claimed them as his children, few things had ever caused such joy, such love in his heart. Except Cersei.

She was all he had thought about when he had been a prisoner of the Starks. For more than a year, he had thought only of his sister with emerald eyes and golden hair. His sister, and all the possible and imaginable ways he could have returned to her, where he belonged.

Then, when he had returned, everything seemed to fall apart.

Joffrey died at his wedding. And he had never seen Cersei so sad. Never had he seen her eyes lose their luster as they had then. She no longer cared for herself, as if she would have preferred to let herself die. Her hair was dull and tangled. It no longer had its golden sheen, nor did her eyes burn with their usual glow of wildfire.

Their brother was accused of the murder, and defended by Oberyn Martell, who lost his life in his fight against the Mountain.

Oberyn's companion, Ellaria Sand, tried to raise Dorne against the crown, and Jaime went to fetch Myrcella, who had been sent there to be married to Prince Trystane.

The last time he had seen her, his daughter was still only a child. But when he saw her again, with her long golden curls, a spitting image of Cersei at the same age, he could not help but notice how beautiful she had become.

Yet her emerald eyes also lost their luster as life slipped from her mind and blood flooded her nose, running down her face and through her hair.

Blood and hair. Scarlet and gold. Lannister scarlet and gold.

When he returned to King's Landing with his daughter's body, he was absolutely horrified to see Cersei's crown of glory torn from her.

Her hair had been butchered by the sparrows, along with her dignity. There was almost nothing left of her opulent blonde cascade, only short strands.

It had been quite ironic to see where the Lannisters of Casterly Rock stood.

Their brother had fled to Essos. Their father was dead. Two of their children had died, and the third fell further into the hands of the Great Sparrow and the Tyrells.

The Tyrells. Their rose may have been golden like the Lannister lion, but they would never be equal.

And Cersei had made it clear to them. She had annihilated their house as cruelly as their father had annihilated that of the Reynes of Castamere. Their hopes for a future generation had been destroyed when Mace, Margaery and Loras had perished.

The golden lion had unexpectedly and violently regained the upper hand over the golden rose.

And the lioness with the golden mane had taken the Iron Throne.

But another queen, with silver hair, had arrived in Westeros.

And that had been the beginning of the end.

Now that King's Landing was on fire, and the silver-haired queen was about to have her victory over the golden-haired queen, Jaime could only think how much he would have endured anything for her.

Her. The only person who had ever really mattered to him, except for his children.

He had thought that after the Long Night, Winterfell and the North might have been his home. Maybe Brienne could have been his home.

He was wrong.

He was wrong, and he understood it the moment he saw her, alone, in the middle of the patio with the map of Westeros. She was standing in the exact spot of Casterly Rock.

A golden lioness, a Lannister lioness.

Casterly Rock, stronghold of the Lannisters.

Lannister, the implacable lords of the Westerlands.

The West, wealth, opulence, gold.

Gold, the gold of the sun, the gold of the lion, the gold of her hair.

And it was when she was in his arms and he buried her face in her golden hair that he understood. That was his home. It had always been there. The gold had been his life. It would be his death too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	2. One, not two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Cersei have always been destined to be one, not two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Two''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Jaime and Cersei have always been destined to be one.

If they were two, it was only because of a whim of fate.

Only at birth, they were bound together. Jaime was born, holding Cersei's foot, clinging to her as if she was the only one who would allow him to live.

They had been bound before that. Why else would they have been in the same womb together?

This had continued after they were born.

When they were babies, it was almost impossible to tell them apart. Even their own father didn't know who Jaime was and who Cersei was.

Already at that age, they had refused to be separated, screaming as soon as they were put in two different cradles, and seemed to snuggle together when they were together.

Then, as children, it hadn't been easier to recognize them. They were identical, with their gold curls and emerald eyes.

They always played the same games together. They always slept together, in the same bed curled up like two lion cubs. They were one.

But they had grown up. A sword had been put in Jaime's hands, a needle in Cersei's.

They hadn't understood.

Why were they treated so differently when they were so much alike?

From that moment on, the world stopped treating them as one, but two.

It was silly. They were one person, one soul, and they knew it.

Why was the rest of the world too blind to see it?

And things had continued to change as the years went by.

When they were little, to show that they were one person, they often swapped places, Jaime putting on Cersei's clothes, and vice versa, pretending to be each other.

Now that they had grown up, they had found another way to become one.

They had taken it slow at first. Jaime had always been gentle and kind to Cersei, and he always would be. He didn't want to harm her in any way, ever.

It had hurt Cersei a little at first, but the feeling of fullness and wholeness that had flowed through their veins was worth all the pain in the world.

There were no longer two of them.

They were one.

They had enjoyed the still unknown feeling so much that it gave them the feeling that they had started again, and that it had become a habit.

But the years had gone by, and they had been torn from each other, many times, like a flower with its petals torn off.

They had been split in two again.

Cersei had first had to go to King's Landing, and when Jaime finally reached her, when they could finally feel whole, Cersei had to leave again, because of the war raging in the kingdom.

When Jaime had killed the Mad King, and sat on the Iron Throne, he thought that he and Cersei could once again become one, for all eternity and for all to see. But that was before Eddard Stark came into the room with his men and forced him down.

Cersei had had to marry Robert Baratheon, had been forced by their father to become one with him, whereas it was with Jaime that she should have stood in the Great Sept of Baelor.

But never mind.

Cersei's marriage could not prevent them from being together, and becoming one, as they were meant to be.

Nothing and no one.

From their union were born three children, all with blond manes and green irises.

They, in turn, had grown up.

Jaime had always wondered if one of his two sons had the same relationship with his daughter as he had with Cersei.

If so, if he could have done something about it, he would never have stopped them.

After all, he knew only too well the happiness it brought.

But Joffrey was dead.

And because of him, because of his selfish desires, he and Cersei had split in two more violently than they had ever been.

Because of him.

Cersei had told him many times that she had forgiven him, but he would never forgive himself.

And Myrcella and Tommen were dead.

But that, unlike Joffrey's death, had brought them together, had filled the cracks.

They had found each other again, they had healed each other's wounds.

And just when Jaime thought they were going to to tip over again, that they were going to move apart again, the miracle had happened.

Cersei was pregnant.

As soon as she told him, Jaime tried to take care of her as much as possible. To be even sweeter, to be even nicer to her than usual.

When they went to bed, he held her close to him, placing a loving and protective hand on her abdomen where life was growing again.

A new little lion cub.

A new way of being one.

They didn't know yet that they would be on the verge of tearing each other apart again. But they would still love each other with all their hearts, as they had always done. After all, we don't choose who we love.

They didn't know that Jaime would go north to fight alongside their enemies just so they could become one with Cersei and their little one for all eternity.

But he was going to come back, just like he had always done. If there weren't two of them, how could Jaime let Cersei die alone? How could she die without him when she had promised him that they would both leave the world, just as they had both entered it, as one person?

In a way, they were going to be one for all eternity. Jaime would die in Cersei's arms, Cersei would die in Jaime's arms, together.

As they had always been.

Impossible to tell where one of them stopped and the other began.

One soul. One heart. One person.

One.

Not two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	3. Accept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We just need each other. We always have. Please accept...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Accept''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> This chapter is a bonus of my work [Pray](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157079). 
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

It had been just over a year since they arrived in Pentos.

A year since they were free.

Free to be who they wanted to be, to be together, to be in love, to be happy.

It hadn't been easy at first.

It was never easy to forget.

To forget the Targaryens, the Starks, the fire, the ice.

To forget the Red Keep, King's Landing, Westeros, the Seven Kingdoms.

To forget everything that had happened.

Fortunately, they had their daughter.

_Their_ daughter.

Jaime was now free to claim her as his, his and Cersei's, without fear of ever seeing their heads or their baby's on the end of a spike.

Their little Joanna.

She had been the light of their lives, a real ray of sunshine, with her golden curls, when the black shadows of the past had returned to haunt their present.

They had bought a house on the beach, with the jewels they had taken with them.

While they had initially feared that owning so many valuables would draw attention to them, the merchants had only seen the price they could get for these beautiful jewels.

And they had not paid attention to the emeralds and gold they had in front of them.

They had quickly become accustomed to their new life, even though Cersei sometimes looked at the sea without really seeing it, as she was doing at that very moment, imagining what would have happened if they had been trapped in the bowels of the Red Keep, the bowels of power, collapsing upon them.

Sometimes a tear would flow from her eyes, lonely.

Lonely, as Cersei had almost died if Jaime had not returned.

_Her_ Jaime.

She had wondered all the way to the end if he would come back to her, or if he would let her perish alone.

She thought he would not. After all, she had threatened to kill him. Of course, she would never do it. Killing her twin, the love of her life after all she had lost, would have been the same as if she had killed herself.

Killing herself. She had often thought about that, too, since her marriage to Robert.

Wouldn't things have been simpler if she had thrown herself from the top of the Red Keep?

And she would have wanted so much, that everything would have been simpler. She would have wanted so badly never to become a queen.

If she had had the strength to stand up to her ambition and her father, she could have been happy long ago.

She could have run away here, to Essos, with Jaime. She could have married him, like she always wanted to.

If she had had the strength to do so, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen would probably still be alive.

But she didn't have the strength.

She had always hated the fact that her father saw her as a mere commodity that he could sell to the highest bidder so much that she swore that she would never be the disappointing child. So she had listened to him.

She had done everything he had told her. And she had been unhappy.

The only happy moments in her life were with Jaime and her children.

And by the time all her little lion cubs had died and she felt Jaime was going to get further and further away from her, she realized she was pregnant.

That didn't stop her from pushing Jaime away when he wanted to fight for their lives, her and their baby.

And Jaime was gone.

But he had come back. For her, to save her, that day when Daenerys attacked King's Landing.

It was the most horrible day of her life when she thought she was going to die alone.

But it was also one of the most beautiful. Because Jaime had returned, as he had always promised.

Because Joanna had been born.

Because they had finally done what they should have done all those years ago.

_Running away._

_Together._

It was dark now. Cersei didn't know how long she'd been standing like that, with her feet in the sea.

It reminded her of Casterly Rock.

It reminded her of her childhood, this house she had never seen since she had been married, but where part of her had stayed.

_Her innocence._

But that didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter now.

And it mattered even less now that Cersei felt a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, in a gesture as loving as it was protective.

Jaime buried her face in the hollow of her neck, and Cersei closed her eyes, enjoying the familiar warmth of his breath on her skin and the closeness of their bodies.

Now spending the day caring for Joanna, those moments had become rare, and they both enjoyed them when they came in.

But by this time, the little one was sound asleep, exhausted after spending the day running and playing.

After a moment that could have been seconds or years, Jaime whispered in Cersei's ear, as if on a whim :

"Marry me, Cersei...''

They had already talked about it, of course, many times, but they had never been able to make it come true.

In Westeros, they would have been executed for it.

In Essos, they were too afraid of being discovered.

''Jaime... you know I want to, but if we are recognized...''

Jaime cut her off:

''We don't have to do it in front of anyone. Let's do it right here, right now, just the two of us. We don't need a septon, or a septuary, or the light of the Seven. We just need each other. We always have. Please accept...''

Then Cersei nodded silently, smiling, feeling tears coming to her eyes, tears of joy.

They stood face to face, and Jaime undid his belt, then, grabbed Cersei's hand, and tied it around their wrists.

They looked into each other's eyes, a smile on their lips, and began to recite what they had never thought they could say again.

_''I'm hers, she's mine, until the last of my days...''_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	4. Dreams form in hearts like clouds in the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei and Jaime have often rebuilt their world by watching clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Cloud''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> This chapter is a bonus of my fic [When we have only love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290348).
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

It had been more than a year.

It had been more than a year since their little brother was born.

It had been more than a year since their mother had died.

It had been more than a year since they had not returned to the beach.

It had hurt too much. It was their mother who used to take them there, to run with them in the waves and on the sand.

But their mother was no longer there.

And since she had left them, they had never wanted to go back. It didn't make sense without her.

Life had become sad since Mother had died. Father was hardly ever there anymore, spending his time in King's Landing, where he was the Hand of the King. Their little brother was too small to play with them, and anyway, Cersei had decided that she didn't love him, declaring that he had killed their mother when he came into the world.

That it would have been better if he hadn't been there, and their mother still was.

Even Jaime and Cersei were no longer with each other during the day, busy with the lessons they were forced to take separately because they were not the same.

And Jaime and Cersei didn't like it, being separated, but their father had ordered them to do so, and no one dared to disobey Tywin Lannister.

Until the day Jaime decided he wanted to go to the beach with Cersei, as they had done with their mother.

Only this time they would be alone.

After he had managed to escape the maester's attention, he had gone to look for Cersei.

She was with her septa. He had discreetly waved to her behind the half-open door, and Cersei had asked if she could go to the latrine. The septa, not suspecting the deception for a second, agreed, and Cersei joined Jaime, who was waiting for her.

He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her out of the castle.

If their father found out, he would be furious.

But he didn't care.

He had taken her to the beach.

They hadn't been there for a year, but Jaime remembered it as if they had been there the day before.

They lay on the sand, just like they did when they had just run for a long time with Mother and they were falling apart, exhausted.

Jaime had wrapped his arms around Cersei, who had huddled against him.

They hadn't said a word, just looking at the white clouds that parade through the blue sky.

Until Jaime broke the silence:

"Why do you think Father doesn't want us to study the same things?

He knew that Cersei would have loved to learn how to ride a horse, fight with a sword, and shoot with a bow.

He loved it, and they were the same.

Besides, she had already told him several times how much she hated the dancing and singing lessons and where she was learning to talk and behave like a lady.

''I think it's because I'm a girl, and you're a boy...''.

Jaime thought that was absurd. How important was their gender? Why, because she was a girl, shouldn't she have the right to do what she wanted?

Then he whispered in her ear, like a secret:

''One day, I will marry you. When we are grown up, and I am the lord of Casterly Rock, as Father, no one will dare say no to me, and you can learn what you want, and we will be happy.''

When she had turned her bright emerald eyes towards him, he had blushed.

He had felt like an idiot. Why would Cersei, who was beautiful and intelligent, want to marry him?

But she had smiled, and said to him:

''Yes, we will be very happy.''

And, as if to seal their promise, he had kissed her on her fleshy little lips.

* * *

And now that they were both lying on Jaime's bed in the Tower of the White Sword, looking at the clouds, like when they were little, Jaime couldn't help but feel guilty.

He had broken his oaths.

That's what we called him when we thought he couldn't hear.

Perjury. The _oathbreaker_.

He didn't care.

Of all the oaths he had taken, only one really mattered to him.

And he had broken it too.

And he felt so guilty, that he couldn't keep the promise he'd made to Cersei all those years ago.

To marry her. To be happy with her.

He couldn't marry her. Their father had forced her to marry Robert Baratheon, the new king, for whom Jaime had freed the Iron Throne.

He had not been able to be happy with her. Of course, they were happy when they were together, but it was obvious that Cersei was unhappy with her life. How could she not be?

Robert spent his days hunting, drinking and fucking, and when he finally took an interest in her it was only to insult her, to shout at her, to snub her, to hit her or rape her.

Jaime saw it all through the bruises and marks Robert left on her skin, swearing that one day he would kill him for it.

But in the meantime, he just had to play the role of lover and protector.

They always spent hours looking at the clouds, just like when they were children.

Except now they weren't children anymore, and they looked at the clouds lying down, out of sight.

Then Jaime would gently wrap Cersei in his arms from behind and put his cheek against hers, whispering in her ear everything that might have happened in another life.

That was it, the only thing they had now. Dreams of another life that would never come true.

Sometimes Cersei dreamed of being a bird, so she could fly away among those clouds.

In a way, she was a bird.

But that bird had its wings broken, young, very young, too young, so that it would never fly away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	5. The Torments of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Power have already been their childrens' death. It will be not their love's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Power''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Jaime couldn't describe the feeling he felt as he stood in front of the pile of still-smoldering ashes that now replaced the Great Sept of Baelor.

Just as he could not describe the feeling he felt when he saw Cersei, hieratic, walking towards the Iron Throne, and climbing the steps leading up to it with an air of resignation.

If he were a harmless person among the crowd that had come to see the sacrament of the new sovereign, he would think that the only glow in his eyes the same color as the fire that ravaged the Great Sept was the thirst for power.

But he is not a harmless person in the crowd. And he knows that it is not the lust for power that ravages her veiled eyes.

It is the black shadow of sadness. Of misfortune. Of suffering.

And it is when, for a brief moment, for just a few seconds, he crosses her gaze, that he understands that something has happened.

Something to do with Tommen.

_Their last little lion cub._

Why else would Cersei be crowned?

Instinctively, he knows that Baelor, the ruins and the smoke, the pain in his half's eyes and the crown on her head, their last baby, it's all connected.

* * *

When the sun had long since set, Jaime entered Cersei's apartments.

It took him some time to discern his silhouette standing at the window, black against the black sky.

Black is black. Like despair.

She was contemplating the Visenya hill, which was melting into darkness, standing in the same place as when she had contemplated her vengeance and death burst forth there, her crown abandoned a little further away.

When she didn't know that the hot flush she had felt rising within her, the fire of victory and the liberating air of the power she had just definitively seized over the Tyrells and the sparrows, would soon become nothing but mourning and misfortune.

She had known this when Qyburn had removed the shroud that covered Tommen's body.

When she realized that the power had killed all her little lion cubs.

The power she had wanted so much when she couldn't have it and had when she didn't want it anymore.

For what's the point of having power if you can't protect those you love?

Joffrey had died because when he became king, he had tasted power, that strange thing you could only want more and more as you acquired it. And he had come to terms with the idea that having power should be associated with violence. That had been his end.

Myrcella had died because of the endless power games that all the greats of this world played, and which made some of the most important families hate each other without limits, for past grudges or old wounds that never healed.

And now, Tommen.

Tommen was dead because of her, and a power he never wanted.

Never would she have thought that by blowing up the Great Sept of Baelor, Tommen would commit suicide.

She should have known. She should have known that Tommen's love for Margaery would drive him to do such a thing when she realized what had happened. She should have been with him.

If she had been, he never would have died.

When Cersei heard Jaime come in, she realized that she had failed him as much as she had failed Tommen.

She had killed his son as much as she had killed hers.

And when she felt Jaime's presence just behind her back and his breath on her neck, and her eyes filled with tears, she couldn't help but say out loud what she was thinking in her low voice:

"It's my fault...''

It was a horrible thing to say. It was horrible because saying it only made it more real, more true.

But she repeated it anyway, tears as salty as the sea gently flowing over her cheeks and her voice breaking like the waves break when they hit the rocks.

''It's my fault...''

Jaime says nothing, simply wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder, so that they can be played cheek to cheek, the tears rolling down Cersei's cheek moistening Jaime's one.

''They all say I'm a monster... They're all right...''

At these words, Jaime stood up, and, grabbing Cersei by the shoulders, forced her to turn around.

Even then, she lowered her head, not wanting to cross her eyes, feeling horribly guilty, a feeling of emptiness that she already knew she could never fill.

_Shame._

_Shame._

_Shame._

Jaime grabbed her face with both hands to force her to look at him:

''Cersei, listen to me well... Look at me... You are not a monster... I forbid you to say it. I forbid you even to think it.''

''I killed your son. I killed my son. I killed our son...''

''No. No, you didn't kill him. You didn't kill him, my sweet. You didn't, love.''

"Yes, I did... It is because of me that he died... It's my fault... I should have been with him... "It's all my fault...''

Seeing that nothing he could say would soothe his grief, Jaime kissed Cersei's forehead and held her close to him, allowing her to cling to him and bury her face in his chest, her warm tears wetting the leather of his jacket.

In a way, he was happy to see that she still loved him enough to feel safe, to feel secure, when she huddled up to him, letting him wrap his arms around her as if that could have kept her away and protected her from all the horrors of the world. From the torments of power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	6. Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":
> 
> \- Invite: '' Moon ''.
> 
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The sand screamed under Jaime's boots when he finally arrived on the beach, plunged in darkness, only lit by the faint silver glow of the moon reflected on the waters of Blackwater Bay.

He sat on the ground and closed his eyes.

That way, he could almost pretend that she was here, right next to him, with him.

He could almost perceive the sweet smell of lavender oil, her scent, in the air full of dust, ashes and souls.

Jaime didn't want to believe that Cersei wasn't there.

He didn't want to believe that Cersei was no longer there.

He had seen her, though.

He had seen her when he finally found her, after running around the castle for what seemed like hours and hours, with only one thought in mind: to save her.

To save her and their baby.

The world was collapsing around him, but the only thing that really mattered to him was that Cersei was alive.

And she was alive.

She was still alive when he finally managed to find her.

But not for very long.

She was holding the bloody corpse of a newborn baby, lying on the cold stone slabs, her crimson dress almost concealing the fact that she was bathed in a pool of her own blood.

He had run faster than he had ever run before, to cover the few meters that still separated them.

She was already like a corpse: her diaphanous skin was icy, as if all the blood flowing through her veins had ended up on the ground, she was motionless, no longer able to move, and her breathing was panting, laborious, and almost imperceptible.

But when he had taken her in his arms to hold her close to him, in the unreasonable hope that it was not too late, that he could still save her, that she would get better, that she would heal, in spite of that little voice telling him in the depths of his being that it was already too late.

Of course it wasn't too late. It was impossible. She couldn't die without him.

_We will leave this world together, as together we came into it._

_We've always been together. We'll always be together._

And, as a sign of her final battle against death, Cersei opened her eyes, one last little flame burning in those oceans of wild fire in which Jaime so loved to get lost, and whispered:

''Jaime...''

Hearing his voice, as low as if it were already far away, Jaime felt a few tears silently running down his cheeks, he who never cried, tenderly caressing her hair :

''Yes, my Cersei, it's me... I'm here, I've come back...''.

"Don't go... Don't leave me...''

But, when he wanted to answer her that no, he would not leave, nowhere, not without her, that he would never leave her again, it was she who left him.

She let out her last breath, cradled against his chest.

And Jaime burst into tears, as he hadn't done since he was a little boy, since he promised Cersei he would marry her, since he kissed her out of sight, but they didn't know it was wrong yet.

He buried his face in her golden hair dulled by dust, her hair the color of the sun, the sun she had been to him, and the sun she could have been to the world, if the world had deserved it.

He could remember the way she radiated, the way she could light up the darkest room when she laughed, the laughter that only he could wrest from her, an almost innocent laughter, as before, if they had ever been.

She was the sunshine of his life, and she alone had allowed him to hold on, to cling to the darkest moments.

But when Jaime opened his eyes again, he was alone, in the darkness, without Cersei to light him, to guide him, to force him to continue.

It was Tyrion who had come to pluck him from the corpse of her twin sister, when he would have preferred to stay with her, to die with her, to be able to join her where she had left too quickly.

_Come on, Jaime ... We can't do anything for her now ... You have to let her go ..._

He had left her again, when he would have absolutely wanted to follow her. And now it was in the silvery glow of the moon that he cried for the loss of the sun of his life, his sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard with English, it is not my mother tongue.


	7. Silver Girl, Golden Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could he pledge allegiance to the silver-haired girl when he already has his golden queen ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Silver''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

As soon as he set foot in Winterfell, Jaime knew there was going to be a problem.

He was about to be led before Daenerys Targaryen and his allies.

He knew the interview would end badly. After all, he had stuck his sword in his father's back.

Certainly, in doing so, he had saved the lives of half a million people.

But what was the life of half a million people for a girl who had grown up without a father?

The four Unsullied who surrounded him opened the heavy oak doors leading to the Great Hall of Winterfell.

The last time Jaime had stood here was less than ten years ago, but it might as well have been a century or more.

He remembered watching Cersei, sitting at the large table, on the dais that overlooked the assembly, dominating it as any sovereign is supposed to do.

Robert sat at one of the modest wooden tables in the middle of the room below the dais, drinking and groping the breasts and buttocks of the girls on duty, without the slightest regard for his wife.

He could remember how it had boiled him, to see that disgusting boar married to the most beautiful woman of the Seven Kingdoms, to his Cersei, and not even deigning to care for her, or at least her dignity, when he could not have her and they had to be content to live out their great love in the silver glow of the moon, they, the two golden twins blessed by the Sun itself.

And now he was back to where he started.

But without Cersei.

Oh, of course, it was for her that he was there.

For her, and for their baby.

For Cersei.

Everything had always been for Cersei, everything was always for Cersei, everything would always be for Cersei.

She was his reason for living. Her other half.

He wasn't whole without her.

If he had to die to protect her from death, then he would die.

She was the real reason he came north, to attack the White Walkers and the Army of the Dead.

But this, Daenerys Targaryen or the others would never understand.

No one ever understood anything about it.

He had bled for Cersei, more than he had bled for anyone in his entire life.

And he would have bled again and again, if she had asked him to.

_Because blood is the seal of our devotion._

The crowd of Northmen massing in the room in preparation for the arrival of the Kingslayer split in two as the four eunuchs flanking him pushed him into the center of the room, where everyone could see him.

They were all there.

Daenerys Targaryen, with her silver hair.

Jon Snow, with his air of permanent gravity.

Sansa Stark, who no longer looked like the maiden he had met at the Red Keep.

Bran Stark, who no longer looked like the kid Jaime had thrown from a tower when he had caught him having sex with Cersei. He had a misplaced expression now, as if he was lost in thought.

And Tyrion

Tyrion, sitting at Daenerys' right, his hand badge as golden as their sister's hair, as golden as the sun.

Tyrion, who had finally found the recognition he had sought so much.

He crossed Daenerys' gaze.

A look that froze his blood for a brief moment. He had seen that look before.

He had already seen it in the eyes of the Mad King, just before he began shouting at the pyromant to light the wild fire under King's Landing.

_Burn them all._

But what was he doing here, being probed again by that look?

''Ser Jaime Lannister... You came here alone, without the armies promised by your sister... Why?''

''Cersei never intended to put Lannister's armies at your disposal.''

Daenerys looked angrily at Tyrion.

''You promised me... You promised me that you had succeeded in changing her mind... in convincing her to help us...''

''Tyrion had nothing to do with it. Neither he nor I knew about it, my lady.''

The Unsullied standing behind Jaime on the left, hit him with the shaft of his spear.

''Not "my lady''. Your Grace.''

Daenerys looked at Jaime again:

''So be it. I can believe you didn't know what your monster sister was planning...''

Jaime felt the rage rise inside him.

How _dare she_ , what right did she have to call Cersei a monster, she who had burned thousands of people alive?

''... but you have to bend the knee if you don't want to be considered a traitor.''

"No.''

His answer was without appeal.

He would not bend the knee.

Not in front of her.

Not in front of someone who wasn't Cersei.

Daenerys appeared surprised:

"No?''

He crossed his brother's gaze, right next to the Targaryen girl.

He shouted silently to him to say yes, to accept, to bow, to bend the knee, please, Jaime, please, if you don't do it, she will kill you.

Jaime turned his eyes away from the eyes of Tyrion, and planted them straight into the eyes of the Mother of Dragons.

"No," he confirmed.

"Then you are a traitor.''

''I am not a traitor. I cannot pledge allegiance to you, because I have already sworn allegiance to my sister, who is, for the time being at least, the only anointed and legitimate sovereign of the Iron Throne. I am like Jon Snow. I cannot serve two queens. And I already serve one.''

_His golden queen._

It would be to pledge allegiance to the silver-haired maiden while he had his golden-haired queen who would be betrayed.

And he had betrayed her enough already.

He wouldn't become an oathbreaker again.

Not with Cersei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	8. Water, Ice and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Water''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context : AU - Season 8
> 
> Enjoy reading!

If the glory of the Targaryen came from fire and that of the Stark from ice, then that of the Lannisters came from water.

Cersei often thought about it, looking at the huge expanse of water that formed the Blackwater Bay.

People often disdained water in favor of fire and frost. After all, both were deadly. The flames burned anyone who got too close, and the ice could freeze to death in the strongest man in his sleep. Yet water worked in harmony with both of these elements.

Water extinguished the fire.

The fire melted the ice.

Ice froze the water.

She and her brothers were constantly told, as children, how water with silvery reflections had restored the Lannisters reputation. How it had, thanks to their father, decimated the Reynes.

It was not just the rains that had wept over Castamere. It had been a real flood.

A flood had swept them all away, they had mocked the lion who had no control over fire or ice.

But the lion mastered water. And that was enough.

However, water had a completely different meaning for Cersei.

She was born in Casterly Rock, with her twin brother Jaime, by the sea.

Their mother had taken them to the beach at a very young age. They had spent hours playing in the waves, running on the dunes.

Then their mother died. And they hadn't gone back to the beach. It wasn't the same without her. The sand had lost its usual shine, not as golden as their hair, or the roaring lion in their coat of arms.

Even the water, the sky, and the clouds had become dark.

But a few years later, Jaime picked her up from her lesson and, claiming to her septa that she needed to go to the latrine, she followed him to the beach.

They lay quietly on the sand, Jaime hugging Cersei while the foam came and tickled their feet.

It had become their secret escapade.

They could stay for hours like this. They imagined what their lives would be like when they grew up when Jaime would be like Father when they got married.

Sometimes they would undress, running in the sea, jumping, laughing in the waves.

Then they grew up again. They had changed. But they kept going to the beach, in the saltwater of the sea. No matter how much Cersei had been told over and over that it was wrong for a woman to show herself naked to anyone other than her husband, they didn't care. They kept going. They kept going because it wasn't wrong. It was good.

But one day, some maids caught them naked in a little cove that they thought was secret and dragged them to their father.

He refused to believe that the two servants had found them naked and hanged them for lying. But he had formally forbidden Jaime and Cersei from returning to the beach at Casterly Rock.

They had taken their father at his word. They had not returned to that beach.

Instead, on their fifteenth birthday, Jaime had quietly taken them out of the castle and taken her to Lannisport.

There they had been no one. No one had recognized them. No one had seen them. No one had heard them.

The seawater they had swallowed splashing in the water like when they were children and drying on their lips had a taste of freedom when they kissed.

But that day had quickly ended, and now there was nothing left of it, except memories, dreams, promises, and a shell, which Cersei had always kept as her most precious treasure.

When she touched it, it was as if she was touching with her fingertips the freedom she would never have again.

When she had become queen, it happened, when Robert was hunting, that she would go down with Jaime to the bank of the Blackwater, in which she dipped her feet.

It wasn't much, but it allowed her to forget.

She would close her eyes, just feeling Jaime's presence beside her, and forget who she was.

She was no longer a queen. She was no longer a Lannister. She was no longer Cersei.

She was the breath of the wind, she was the waves of the ocean, she was the rays of the sun dancing on her hair, she was the grains of soft sand.

And now that fire and war were raging around her, that the Red Keep was collapsing, that she was sure she was going to die, she would have given anything to be able to forget and go back.

To forget the blood that stained her hands. To forget that she was Queen of the Andals and the First Men. To forget all that she had lost.

She approached the edge of the highest tower of the Red Keep. The wall had been torn down. If she got too close, she could fall into the water.

Smelling the familiar smell of salt, she closed her eyes, and she remembered.

She remembered Casterly Rock. She remembered the beach. She remembered the water. She remembered Jaime.

Jaime, who wasn't there. Jaime, who wasn't there anymore. Jaime, who had died during the Long Night.

Jaime, who had died because she was thirsty, thirsty for the water of glory and power.

She had to join him. That was the only way to be free. To be with Jaime.

If anything was to be her liberation, it might as well be water.

The water was stronger than the flames. And Cersei had never loved flames, except for her love for Jaime.

So she approached the far edge, looked ahead.

And the bird that had been caged since he was a baby took flight.

He took flight and went to land in the water.

The water that was to be her freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	9. Dark Wings, Dark Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Letter''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> This chapter is a bonus of my work [Joanna](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113621). 
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The tension was palpable, as it was every time a battle was being prepared.

Except that this battle would not be like any battle Jaime had ever experienced.

Yet he had fought more battles than he could count.

But this one was not against another house, in which he would be followed by the bearers of scarlet banners with the roaring lion, ardently defending the honor of the House Lannister.

In this battle he would be one of the defenders of life.

Life against death.

He would not fight against humans. He would fight against the dead, who would have no pity and, above all, no fear of death.

They would not have a ball in the back of their throat, nor heavy entrails.

But Jaime would.

And this battle would soon take place.

But, while waiting for it, he had a completely different kind of fear.

* * *

He was in the great hall of the castle, sitting at the breakfast table with Tyrion, when Maester Wolkan came up to him:

''A raven for you, Mylord... A crow from the capital...''

Immediately putting down the mug of beer he was holding, he quickly grasped the letter from the maester's hands and thanked him.

With the man gone, Jaime put the message back on the table, without opening it, and took his head in his hands.

Black wings, black news.

What if something had happened to Cersei?

Cersei, whom he had left alone in King's Landing, pregnant to the eyes, as he again took command of the Lannister armies, perhaps in the final battle, but with an oath that he would return.

He could still remember her face and her gaze when he had taken her face between his two hands, one warm as the breezes of summer and the other cold as the winds of winter, kissing her forehead, trying to dissipate the anxiety that had veiled her eyes, then her lips moistened with tears, as if to seal his commitment.

He had placed his good hand against her belly, and the baby had given a violent blow at the precise spot where he had put his fingers, as if he was protesting his father's departure.

She could give birth at any time now.

He had seen her begin to have difficulty moving around, her breasts and back were starting to hurt, and she was not able to stand for very long.

He had been happy to be able to take care of her during her pregnancy, as he had not been able to do so for the previous pregnancies.

For the first time, Jaime was really going to be a father.

He remembered talking to her stomach when, at night, in their bed, the baby decided not to let his mother sleep. He had kissed the bump that their new little lion cub was forming.

For him, the slightest kick was magical.

He would cherish for the rest of his life the memories of the moments when Cersei was at the window, gazing pensively at the city, one hand on her abdomen, and of him coming behind her, leaning her against him to relieve her of the weight of the little one, surrounding her with his arms, resting his good hand on hers, intertwining their fingers and kissing her on the cheek. She often ended up sighing with contentment and closing her eyes with a sense of well-being.

They were so good, the three of them, the two together, as it had always been, and the fruit of their love, as it had always been meant to be.

But winter had come. For good.

And with it, the White Walkers.

Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow had come to King's Landing to ask Cersei for help in defeating the threat.

At first she had been reluctant to call a truce with their enemies, but all it took was a simple glance at Jaime and a baby kick to convince her to accept.

And Jaime was gone.

Ever since he had left King's Landing, he couldn't stop thinking about the two lights of his life.

To his two rays of sunshine in the gray winter sky.

To his Cersei and the little lion cub she was carrying.

He would be sick with grief if something happened to one or the other of the two loves of his life, or, by the greatest misfortune, to both.

Jaime had never been able, never wanted to imagine his life without Cersei, and since he had learned that she was pregnant and was planning to publicly confirm his paternity, he could not imagine his life without this small miracle.

A miracle. That's what that little one was.

A chance for Jaime to be the father he could never have been.

He had often wondered if he would be a good father, if he would be like his own, too obsessed with the idea of inheritance to love his children.

But how could he not love their flesh and blood, Cersei's and his, when it was their love that had united them?

Suddenly, he felt an immense wave of guilt run through him.

He should never have left. Never should he have left King's Landing. Never should he have left Cersei.

What if she died in childbirth, just like their mother forty years earlier? What if she lost the baby?

What if she was lying there, screaming in pain, alone, when Jaime had promised her that he would be with her forever?

He would never forgive himself.

No, he couldn't open the letter. The chances of it being condolences were too great.

Still, he had to.

He unsealed the blood-red seal, blood, like a bad omen, and unrolled the scroll.

His eyesight blurred with the tears that came to his eyes, and he barely managed to read Qyburn's handwriting.

Until the last sentence.

He let out a sob.

Tyrion looked at him worriedly, wondering what was going on, the thought of Cersei and the baby floating between them.

But Jaime, wiping his tears with his sleeve, smiled, and uttered a sentence he had only ever been able to say in his dreams:

''I... I am a father...''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	10. His only goddess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''God/Goddess''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> Context: During/After episode 10 of season 3, ''Mhysa''.

Finally.

Jaime was finally in King's Landing.

He was dirty, ragged and scruffy, with a shaggy beard, blood and dirt covering his face.

But it didn't matter.

He was back.

He was home.

To Cersei.

Cersei... He couldn't get close enough... Yet he was going as fast as his legs would let him.

Since he had left the capital after their little discord, he and Ned Stark, he had thought of only one thing: seeing Cersei again.

He remembered the sadness with which he had come to say goodbye. She had begged him to stay, not to leave, please, Jaime, I beg you, don't leave me alone here, don't leave me alone with Robert...

But he couldn't stay. He had to leave. He had attacked the king's best friend, a king who already did not like him very much. He hadn't killed Lord Eddard, and if he told Robert what had happened, which was probable, his head would be on a spike at the city gates before the new moon.

He only hoped that Robert would not be foolish or evil enough to attack Cersei in retaliation.

So he had gone to join his father who had raised an army against the Starks in revenge for Tyrion's imprisonment in the Val.

Anyway, Ned Stark was still in King's Landing, what chance did the wolves have when they did not have their alpha male while the lions had two ?

So he had left with the idea that he would soon return to his twin sister, once the Starks had been crushed by the Lannisters.

But things had not been that simple, unfortunately.

Jaime had been taken prisoner by Robb Stark, forced to break his oath to Cersei, that he would always come back to her very quickly.

This was followed by long months of incarceration, far, too far, far too far from his half.

If he had had the illusion of being able to escape and leave this damn war camp to return to her when he had killed their cousin, his hopes had been very quickly dashed, when these savage Norwegians had caught up with him and put him back in the depths of his cell, in the middle of excrement and mud.

Against all odds, Catelyn Stark had freed him, against the promise that he would send his daughters back from King's Landing when he arrived there in the custody of Brienne of Tarth.

So he had been dragged at the end of a chain through the Riverlands, until they met Locke and Roose Bolton's men.

If at first he had thought he could get away with promises of gold and the name of Tywin Lannister floating between them, Locke had brought him back to harsh reality by cutting off his hand, his right hand, his sword hand.

And now there he was, in King's Landing, one-armed, filthy, exhausted.

But he had returned.

* * *

He walked as fast as he could in the Red Keep.

At first glance, the guards had not recognized him, and had threatened to throw him into the dungeons of the castle. They were soon disillusioned when they finally realized who he was.

He arrived in front of the door of Cersei's apartments.

He hesitated briefly before placing his hand on the handle.

What if Cersei no longer wanted him? What if she didn't want to see him anymore? What if, during his absence, she had found someone else than him, someone to replace him?

He felt foolish to think that.

It was _Cersei._

Of course, she would always want him. After all, they had always been destined to be together. What could have changed?

He walked in.

There she was, sitting on her bed, turning her back on him. She obviously hadn't heard the door open, since she didn't turn around when he entered the room.

He had plenty of time to contemplate her, to admire her as the goddess she was to him, fearing only one thing, that it was a dream, a beautiful dream, and that when he was about to touch her, everything would fade away, everything would disappear and he would wake up in a cell in the Stark camp.

Her long blond curls fell in a beautiful golden cascade along her back and bare arms, covering her marble-white skin, like a golden halo, a halo of glory, unreal, like the most beautiful of illusions, the only deity he truly worshipped.

Once he had been silent for long minutes, he finally decided to pronounce her name, like a magic formula that would put an end to all his problems.

''Cersei...''

* * *

When she heard her name, she first thought she was dreaming. That she was imagining her voice, because she missed it too much, much too much, as if a part of herself had been torn away from her, which was the case, since they were one.

But she turned around and saw him.

He was there.

_Her Jaime was there._

He had come back.

She stood still for a few minutes, which seemed interminable to both of them, not wanting to rush, in case it was a dream whose awakening was only too painful.

Once she realized that it wasn't a dream, and that Jaime was really there in the flesh in front of her, she got up slowly and walked towards him.

When there was almost no space between him and her, Cersei raised her hand and touched Jaime's cheek with her fingertips, as if it would dissipate as soon as her hand touched his cheek.

But it didn't.

And before Jaime had time to react, she had thrown herself into his arms, her warm tears flooding her neck as she buried her face in it, and he could only return her embrace.

He was finally home. With his gilded goddess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	11. Who is alone is less than one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Fear''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> This chapter is a bonus of my work [For Cersei](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789645).
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Cersei had the horrible feeling that the walls of the castle tightened around her, that they were getting dangerously close to her, as if to suffocate her, to prevent her from getting out of there, to prevent her from surviving.

She was alone, completely alone, more alone than she had been during all those months spent in the Red Keep wondering if Jaime had died, at the hand of Bronn or at the hand of the White Walkers, at her hand or at the hand of the White Walkers, more alone than she had ever been.

Qyburn had died trying to save her and her baby.

The Mountain had found his brother, and had refused to obey her ever since.

And Jaime was gone.

He was gone because of her. She had driven him away, away from her, when she needed him, as she had always needed him.

She should have sent her armies north, just so Jaime wouldn't leave her hating her, hating her.

A memory came back to haunt her from the moment she left, from the moment she felt as if her flesh had been torn from her, as if her heart had been broken, as if her blood had been drained, as if life had already deserted her.

_You're a hateful woman. Why have the gods made me love a hateful woman ?_

He hated her. He hated her, so he left.

There was no one left to make her feel loved, no one left to make her feel wanted, no one left to make her feel protected.

Anyway, there had never been anyone to do that.

No one had ever valued her enough to give her that.

Except Jaime.

But Jaime wasn't there, Jaime wasn't there anymore.

Part of the roof of the hallway she had taken refuge in collapsed, missing her by very little.

Cersei huddled up against the wall, hoping to be at least a little safe, safe from the death that rained down on her, as it had rained down on the Reynes of Castamere.

Except that it would not be drowned by the water that she would end up in. It would be drowned by flames, drowned by stones.

Drowned by loneliness, drowned by fear.

She felt a rush of adrenaline rising inside her.

She looked death in the face as she had never looked at it before.

More than when Stannis Baratheon had laid siege to the city and thought she had to poison her son before killing herself, for fear that something much worse would happen to them.

More than when she thought she would die of thirst when she was taken prisoner of the Militant Faith.

More than when Tommen had declared that trials by combat would be prohibited.

More than when Daenerys Targaryen arrived in Westeros, bringing dragons and dreams with her.

More than when Daenerys Targaryen had arrived in King's Landing, bringing fire and blood with her.

And that terrified her.

When she was little, there had always been Jaime to reassure her, when there was a storm and the waves broke violently on the cliffs of Casterly Rock, when the lightning fell and the lightning illuminated the sky with its deadly glow.

 _It is only the lions that roar,_ he told her, _and one day we will roar much louder than they do._

But now, Cersei would have roared with all her might, there was no one to hear her.

In any case, she no longer had the strength to roar, not like before, she was too consumed by the terror of the flames and the death coming out of the dragon's mouth.

It was all very well to say that when winter comes, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives, everything was the same with the lions.

Except that there were only lone lions now. There was no more pack.

So they were all going to die.

A section of the wall against which she was leaning fell a little further.

She had to get out of here.

She absolutely had to take shelter, if not for herself, for her baby.

Her little lion cub.

Even if it meant she would never see Jaime again.

It was tearing her apart, more than any words could ever describe, but doesn't a lioness do everything she can to protect her babies?

She had arrived in the courtyard where she had had the map of Westeros painted so that she never lost sight of her goal.

She clung to the marble railing covered with tiny shards of glass and stone, which bruised her hands when she put them on, clinging to the railing as she desperately tried to hold on to life.

The ground cracked, and stones and rubble fell from towers invisible from where she was, as if they fell from the sky on her, as if the Seven she had repeatedly offended were punishing her in turn.

Cersei continued along the wall, putting her wounded hands on it, and descended to the center of the patio.

It was a bad idea, coming here, a very bad idea.

From there, she was totally exposed, totally naked, just as she had been during the Walk of Shame.

If the Targaryen were to pass right over her, she would see her, and she could kill her right away.

The killing of the Golden Lioness.

Everything kept falling down around her, as she felt the terror rising inside her and death approaching.

She seemed to hear footsteps, and she closed her eyes.

Was it Tyrion, who had come to fulfill the prophecy given to her when she was young?

Was it Daenerys, who had come to kill her greatest rival, the only remaining obstacle to her ascension to the throne?

Was it one of the only people left among the countless who had hated her before Daenerys and the fire?

But she turned around, and she saw him.

It was Jaime.

_Her Jaime who had returned._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	12. The Rains of King's Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Flame''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> This chapter is a prequel of my work [Joanna](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114086). 
> 
> It follow the chapter ''Dark Wings, Dark Words''
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

King's Landing was burning. King's Landing was suffering. King's Landing was screaming. King's Landing was bleeding.

Fire and blood.

The capital was reduced to ashes, flooded with the blood of its inhabitants, while fire rained down on its red tiled roofs.

Targaryen Red. Lannister Red.

The flames had set fire to some of the caches of wildfire under the city, causing green explosions here and there, sweeping away everything in their path.

The gravity of the atmosphere was horrible.

The surrounding heat could be felt from the Red Keep. The air was even heavier than during a storm.

Except that it was not the rain that flooded the streets of the capital.

It was the flames that had started to rain, like when the rains had rained on the castle of Castamere forty-five years earlier.

From afar, it almost looked like a shower of stars, as if the gods themselves were cheering the little princess born a few moons earlier.

But that was not so.

It was fire, it was death raining down on the city.

Cersei was interrupted in her observation of the world that was collapsing by a strange feeling of moisture at the tip of her index finger, and lowered her eyes.

The baby she was holding in her arms had grabbed her mother's finger and was happily suckling it, chirping, completely unaware of what was happening outside.

Holding her daughter even tighter, Cersei moved away from the window.

Qyburn had come to give her news from the front, and it wasn't good. It was really not good.

The Golden Company had been decimated by the dragon. There was nothing left of the Lannister armies, which she had sent to Winterfell for the war against the White Walkers, led by Jaime.

Jaime.

He still had not returned, although he had promised to.

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead.

Cersei would have known that. After all, they were one: how could she not know if her half was gone for good?

But until he came back for them, she had to put her little lion cub away.

She had already planned a place where she could keep Joanna safe until things calmed down.

Daenerys had started to attack the castle, which was gradually falling apart.

Finally, Cersei reached Qyburn's apartments in the Tower of the Hand. She found the secret passageway again without any problem and entered the interior, sinking into darkness.

At last, she saw the cradle she had had installed out of sight.

Kissing the baby's golden curls, Cersei put her inside and, wrapping her in the blankets, whispered to her:

''Mommy is coming back, my little love... Mommy is coming back very soon...''

A tear escaped from her eyes and rolled down her cheek when she turned around.

When she heard her baby start crying, she couldn't go to pick her up.

When her heart broke.

* * *

Jaime was afraid. He wasn't ashamed to say it, even though he had always been taught that fear was a woman's thing.

He was afraid, but it was not the apprehension with which he had fought the White Walkers.

It was different, because it wasn't for him that he was afraid.

He was afraid for Cersei. He was afraid for Joanna.

Joanna.

That name still seemed so strange on his lips.

It had been the name of their late mother, who had taken the happiness of her two twins with her.

But now it was her daughter's name. Their daughter's name, to Cersei and to him.

And he had not yet found them in the Red Keep.

He ran through the corridors, despite the deadly rain that Daenerys was pouring down on the castle, despite the fact that he risked burning to death with every step he took.

In spite of the fact that Euron Greyjoy's injury was tearing his guts out with every move he made.

Because nothing mattered to him except Cersei and Joanna.

He absolutely had to find them.

As he approached the heart of the building and the Maegor's Holdfast, Jaime inexplicably felt sick, a pain in his stomach that had absolutely nothing to do with the hole the kraken had dug in his flesh, a pain he had never felt before, as if he was dying...

* * *

It was when he saw her that he understood.

And, just from the vision he had before him, he already felt dead.

Cersei was lying on the ground.

Motionless. Bathed in blood. Her blood. Their blood.

_No._

_That was not possible._

Jaime rushed to her, praying to all the gods that it wouldn't be that, that a miracle would happen, that they would listen to him for once.

When he was near Cersei, he noticed many burns, her flesh raw in several places, covered with ashes.

Feeling the tears streaming down her face, he took her in his arms, with all the delicacy of the world, sticking her forehead to his and her nose to hers.

When Cersei felt Jaime's breathless breath close to her face, she found the strength to open her eyes:

''Jaime...''

Hearing her voice, hoarse from the dust, he thought he was in paradise, where he would have joined her.

He opened his eyes again.

''Jaime... Joanna... We have to go get her...".

At the mention of his daughter, he began a movement to get up, but the pain of the lesion in his abdomen combined with the pain of Cersei's discovery in this state, without having arrived in time to save her, and the heavy bleeding, forbade him to do so.

Feeling weakened, he let himself fall to Cersei's side, taking her in his arms, holding her tightly against him, his hand on the back of her head, as the flames rose higher and higher and the Red Keep partially turned into an inferno.

The smoke darkened the sky, the ground cracked, blackened, and ashes covered everything.

Red.

Fire and blood. Blood and fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	13. Cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Cliff''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> Context: During episode 1 of season 1, ''Winter is Coming''.

Jaime smiled when he saw his sister leaning over the marble railing in the gallery, watching the Sisters of Silence perform the usual funeral rites of the Faith of the Seven over Jon Arryn's body, lighting candles all around him, and holding strange objects in their hands, whose names he did not know, but which produced a smoke that could be felt throughout the room, despite the oversized size of the Red Keep's throne room.

Cersei was so focused on her observation that she didn't even see her twin brother approaching her, and she was startled when she heard footsteps stop just behind her, but immediately relaxed when she saw that it was only Jaime.

He laughed at her startle, and moved a little closer to her, and also leaned over the railing, in a position very similar to his twin.

''As a brother, it is my duty to warn you. You worry too much. It's starting to show.''

Cersei looked him in the eyes, emerald eyes identical to hers, Lannister emerald eyes, and replied:

''And you never worry about anything. When we were seven years old, you jumped off the cliffs of Casterly Rock. It was a three-hundred-foot plunge. You weren't even scared.''

Jaime remembered the day she was referring to perfectly.

* * *

_It was late afternoon, but the sun was still high and shining in the blue sky above Casterly Rock, its golden rays producing beautiful silver reflections in the turquoise waters of the sea._

_Cersei and Jaime were not allowed to leave the castle alone. But they had made it a ban, as they had so many times before, and Jaime had taken his sister to the beach. The summer day was far too beautiful to be wasted on spending it in the company of boring mestre and severe septas studying uninteresting subjects as much as possible._

_They had stayed there for several hours, just lying on the sand as golden as their hair, enjoying the feeling of fullness that came from each other's embrace._

_When the sun had begun to drop a little, Cersei suggested that perhaps it was time to go home, as their absence had certainly already been noticed at the castle._

_So they set off again, but to go faster, instead of taking the usual winding, sandy path, Jaime had the idea of climbing a few rocks, which might save them precious minutes before someone went looking for them and discovered that they had deliberately decided to disobey their father._

_Cersei had been hesitant at first, not having the climbing experience of her brother, who was used to climbing trees and rocks, but her twin had insisted, and eventually she followed him._

_But, almost at the top of the cliff, Cersei had skidded and fallen into the bluish water below them._

_Jaime didn't think, and jumped right after her, with only one thought in mind: to catch her and save her from drowning._

_He had been scared to death, until they finally arrived on shore, panting, soaking wet, out of breath, but safe and sound, having had more fear than harm._

_When they arrived at the castle, they had both slipped discreetly into Cersei's apartments, where they had finally fallen asleep, exhausted, in front of the burning fire purring in the fireplace._

* * *

''There was no need to be afraid, until you tell Father.''

* * *

_Lord Tywin had hardly returned from King's Landing when he summoned them to his office._

_He knew about it. Of course he knew. Father was always aware of everything that was going on at Casterly Rock._

_He had welcomed his son and daughter with a closed face and a stern look in his green eyes with golden reflections, piercing like the eyes of a cat, or rather a lion, and which could not foretell anything good._

_He had asked them to explain what had happened, although he already knew it, in fact._

_And Cersei, eager to sing the praises of her twin brother, was quick to answer, even before Jaime had had time to open his mouth._

_We were climbing, and I slipped and fell into the sea, but Jaime was brave, so brave, you should have seen him, Father, he jumped up and caught me in the water and brought me back to the beach._

_Their father's gaze had hardened even more, if that was possible, and when he asked in a calm but cold voice, which betrayed no emotion, what they were doing on the beach, they were forced to admit that they had broken company with their guardians and that they had left the castle when they knew full well that they had no right to do so._

_Their father had given them a long sermon, in his inexpressive voice, but which in a way had been far worse than anything he could have said to them by shouting, screaming, and storming._

_The twins had begun to leave the office with a deadly feeling in their souls, Cersei apologizing to her brother for being so stupid, for telling their father everything without thinking, and Jaime reassuring her that it was okay, that anyway, their father would have known, since he always knew everything._

_But, as they walked through the heavy oak door, Tywin called out to Jaime, who turned around to look his father in the eye :_

_''We are Lannisters. Lannisters don't behave like fools.''_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	14. He tells me I'm beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Beautiful''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> Context : During episode 10 of season 5, ''Mother's Mercy''.
> 
> The lines in simple italics are lyrics from Patricia Kaas' song ''Il me dit que je suis belle'' (He tells me I'm beautiful).

‘’Whore!’’

  


"Bitch!’’

  


‘’Slut!’’

  


‘’Shame!’’

  


‘’Cunt!’’

  


‘’Whore!’’

  


The crowd became denser and denser, and the cries seemed to increase tenfold as Cersei moved away from the Sept, surrounded by sparrows, by the septas, by the people.

  


Shame. Shame. Shame.

  


Insults were flowing, the people who had come by the thousands to see the public humiliation of the Queen Mother were now attacking her physique, denigrating her, degrading her, look at her, I have half the belly of this queen whore, look at her breasts, as they fall, mine are firmer, look at her skin, it's all marked, look at her, the most beautiful woman of the Seven Kingdoms, oh yes, she's the most beautiful, the most beautiful whore, the most beautiful whore that those damn Kingdoms have ever seen.

  


People were screaming, spitting out how ugly she was, women were shouting at her to look at them, to see how much more beautiful they were than she was.

  


But Cersei ignored them. Cersei didn't listen to them. Cersei didn't hear them.

  


The only voice she heard was that of her twin, when he whispered sweet words to her when they united, when he adored her.

  


_He tells me I’m beautiful._

  


_**''You're the most beautiful, Cersei, you, you, you, you, it's always been you, it will always be you, the most beautiful woman in the world''.** _

  


''Whore!’’

  


"Bitch!’’

  


"Cunt!’’

  


The cries of the delirious crowd couldn't reach her, not so much because it was her voice, the voice of Jaime, the voice of her Jaime, the only voice she heard, the only voice she listened to, her murmurs resounding in her head a thousand times louder than the screams of the common people.

  


_He speaks as one caresses, of words that don't exist, of always and of tenderness, and all I hear is his voice._

  


‘’ _ **You are the most beautiful, my love, you are the only one, you are the only one for me, I am yours, I am yours and you are mine, it has always been like that, and it will always be like that, always. Before the cradle, and after the grave. You'll always be the only one, you'll always be the most beautiful in my eyes.''**_

  


The unbridled men and women who surrounded her had begun to throw projectiles of various kinds at her, projectiles that Cersei did not want to know where they came from.

  


She repeated Jaime's sweet words to herself, like a mantra, like a magic formula, as if it could have silenced everyone around her, so that only Jaime's voice would continue to be heard.

  


But the invective of the crowd became more and more audible as Cersei walked through the dark alleys of Flea Bottom, as more and more people around her spat their venom in her face, literally and figuratively.

  


_Lies and nonsense, which a child would not believe, but poor me, I believe it._

  


_**''You are the most beautiful. You, you, you.’’** _

  


Cersei felt a cold liquid with a stinking, pungent odor run down her spine, and could not repress a shiver.

  


What if, after all, it was the people who were right?

  


What if she was ugly?

  


She had grown old; she was well aware of it. She no longer had anything of the nineteen-year-old girl who had married the king, she no longer had anything of the young queen, of the Light of the West, of the Golden Queen.

  


Her lower abdomen was now marked with deep scarlet and white stripes, the sign of her pregnancies, where the skin had stretched and then distended.

  


Her breasts were drooping a little, a sign of the age she was beginning to take, not as firm as before.

  


She no longer had her long golden hair, her lioness mane, her crown of glory.

  


They had been butchered, torn out the mane, crushed the crown.

  


The people were right.

  


She was now stained with filth and blood.

  


She kept her head high in the hope that Jaime would appear, that he would come, that he would come at full gallop to pull her out of this hell, to pull her out of the seven hells where she had landed.

  


_He tells me I’m beautiful, I see him running towards me, his hands graze me and drag me away, no more betrayal, no more pain._

  


But Jaime wasn't there. Jaime was in Dorne, to pick up Myrcella. To get their daughter back.

  


Jaime wasn't there, and Jaime didn't come.

  


Cersei slipped, and she felt a sticky liquid dripping from a part of her body, she would have been unable to tell which one.

  


She fell to her knees, her diamond tears now flowing freely from her emerald eyes.

  


A pain filled her whole being, a pain that she could not have said which one it was.

  


Humiliation, hatred, her body bloody, soiled, denigrated, insulted.

  


But as everything became murky around her, as the voices, the cries, the shouts, the people blended together because of the crying that burned her eyes, because of the dull pain that pounded her head, a single voice continued to resound distinctly.

  


_He tells me I’m the queen, poor me, I believe it._

  


_**''You are my queen, Cersei, my queen, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine and I am yours, my beautiful golden queen.’’** _

  


Then, Cersei got up, and continued to advance, despite the insults, despite the insults, despite the hatred.

  


She was the queen. It was her, and one day she would make them pay.

  


A Lannister always pays his debts.

  


And Jaime's voice continued to resound in his head as if he were right next door, whispering in his ear a whisper louder than a thousand cries.

  


_He tells me I'm beautiful, and poor me I believe it._

  


_**''You are the most beautiful. You, you, you. It ‘s you.’’** _

  


_And poor me, I believe it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	15. Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Far''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> Context : S06E01 – Continuation of _He tells me I'm beautiful_

When the boat that brought him back from Dorne with Myrcella's dead body docked in King's Landing, the first thing Jaime saw was Cersei's hair. Or rather, what was left of it.

He had heard the rumors, of course. In all the Seven Kingdoms, it was the only thing they talked about, the humiliated queen, forced to walk through the city completely naked, as stripped of clothing as of dignity, bruised, wounded. And he had hoped it would be no more than that, rumors, gossip, lies.

That when he returned he would not find this fallen queen with the crown of glory slaughtered, as people said, but that he would find his Cersei, his queen with the long golden mane.

He hoped this, because the mere thought that they might have taken advantage of his absence and the fact that he was far, far, far too far away to do anything to hurt his sister, to injure her, to destroy her both physically and psychologically was unbearable for him.

Just the thought that he could have broken another oath to the love of his life made him sick, the horrible blaze of guilt consuming him from within. He would, once again, have been unable to protect her, even though he had promised to always do so, and had broken that promise too many times.

When he had been unable to protect her from the cold looks and condescending words of their father.

When he couldn't protect her from marrying Robert, and from the many atrocities that had been done to her in the name of marriage rights.

When he couldn't protect her from the sadness of losing their eldest son, a sadness that he had added to because of his own selfish desires.

And, when he saw the short locks that replaced his sister's long gold curls, he realized that he had failed again, because he had gone too far.

He also saw all the sadness and pain that her eyes betrayed when she saw the form under the golden shroud he was standing beside.

As soon as he set foot on dry land, he walked towards her.

No one was around, so the first thing he did when he got close to her was to open his arms and wrap her in his embrace, without a word being spoken. They didn't need it.

It was Jaime who broke the silence first, when he felt Cersei's warm tears streaming down his neck.

''Damn it, Cersei, I'm sorry...''

To say he was sorry was an understatement. How could he simply be sorry when he had committed horrors to the one he loved above all else, to his other half ? How could he express the black fury that was overwhelming him at this very moment, a destructive, devastating anger directed at the whole world, at the Great Sparrow and his sect of fanatics, at the people of King's Landing, all of whom had taken pleasure in lyncing this queen they despised and who was doing them good, but above all, at himself, for not being there, for not being there, for being absent, for being far away?

But this rage did not matter for the moment.

Nothing mattered to him at that moment, except Cersei, still huddled against him.

He continued to hold her there, against his chest, for what could well have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, seasons, centuries, millennia, whispering to her:

''I'm sorry, my love... I'll never go away again, I'll never leave you again...''

Because that's what he had done, no more, no less. He was horribly ashamed to say it, but he had abandoned her when she needed him more than ever. He had left her totally alone, when they were already exposed by the death of their father, to which he had unwittingly contributed.

But he had no intention of going back, not now, not ever.

He would stay with Cersei, that was where he belonged, since their birth, even before that.

He would never be far from her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	16. Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Soul''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> Context : Bonus of my fic Dreams of Gold, Silver Stars and Diamond Tears

The days following Cersei's death are horrific, almost as horrific as the fateful day when she breathed her last.

Jaime feels that her soul is present everywhere, so much so that it becomes almost tangible.

It's horribly difficult, because on the surface, everything is still the same as before, while deep down, everything is different.

Everything is different, because Jaime is no longer there, not really, not entirely.

Part of him left with Cersei, because after all, he had always shared everything with her.

One person. One flesh. One soul. But two bodies.

One part of him died, and the other part is dying of despair, of grief.

It is all the more difficult when Cersei's soul, their soul, continues to live on through little Joanna.

It's all the more difficult, because he loves Joanna, he loves his daughter, of course, but it hurts, it hurts so much, it hurts like hell, to see that Joanna is there, but Cersei is not, when it shouldn't have been like that.

The three of them should have been happy, they should have lived together, why was it always so complicated for them?

He sees Cersei everywhere, in Joanna's pretty little face, with her blond curls, her pink dimples, and her fiery emerald irises, the same as in those where he got lost so many times, the same as in those where he drowned so many times, in the surging waves that remind him of Casterly Rock and the happy days, when they still believed that everything was possible, that anything could happen, that dreams could come true.

But they didn't.

That's not the way it is, and Jaime has just had the painful experience of it, once again.

Even Joanna has just experienced it, experienced the cruelty of the world, she's far too young for all that, she would only need one thing, from her mother, something that has just been taken away from her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	17. The Wind Will Carry Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Adult''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading !
> 
> Context : AU – Canon Divergence – Before the TV show.

Cersei woke up with an unpleasant feeling of moisture between her white thighs, which were now all sticky.

She lifted the sheets to see a scarlet stain that had spread over the white silk sheets.

She contemplated it, horrified, the stench of blood rising to her nostrils.

_No... Not already..._

Oh, of course, she knew it had to happen. She was fifteen years old, after all, she had already delayed long enough, and at that age it was usually only a matter of weeks.

But, even so, it was far too early for her.

She knew that as soon as her father knew about her blossoming, he would be much more active in the search for a husband worthy of her, in her opinion, rich, with a big house, if possible, who could offer her more power and glory than he already had.

She also knew that this meant that she could now have children. It was her duty, according to her father, to give the Lannister house a new generation, because, of course, it was out of the question for her to have children who were not Lannisters, who were not Rock lions.

She shuddered with disgust at the thought of a husband much older than her, double or perhaps triple her age riding her wildly, with the will to plant heirs in her womb.

Rising to her feet, she pushed the blankets of her bed over the stained sheet to conceal it.

If it was not one of the maids who had come to wake her, then it must have been early, and the castle must probably still be asleep.

She took off her nightgown decorated with Lannister scarlet, the scarlet of her blood, and replaced it with a clean one, which she put on in a hurry before slipping discreetly into the corridor, tears already silently running down her cheeks.

Luck smiled at least for one thing.

Not a guard or a servant was in her field of vision.

Seizing the opportunity to steal, she ran as quietly as possible to her twin brother's room.

Again, the room was unguarded by anyone, not counting the sleeping guard sitting on the floor.

She opened the door and snuck into Jaime's apartment.

He was still in bed, but opened his eyes and turned toward her as she slipped into bed beside him.

''Cersei? What's going on ?" he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

When she heard him, she burst into tears.

He took her in his arms and, stroking her hair, asked:

"What's wrong, my sweet?''

Having difficulty catching her breath and stopping crying, she answered hiccuping:

"Oh Jaime... That's it... I'm an adult now...''

And the tears flowed even more beautifully.

Jaime kissed her on the forehead, while continuing to hold her close to him, and caressing her cheek with his thumb.

When he felt her breathing slow down and she relaxed into his embrace, he whispered against her hair:

''Meet me tonight at the beach. Take everything you really care about or what you might need for a few weeks...''.

* * *

When she joined him at the beach that evening, with a bag containing all her most precious belongings, she found him holding a horse by the reins, his other hand holding a bag, too.

He put a cape with a hood over her shoulders, which he folded over her golden hair, then helped her onto the horse, and climbed up behind her once she was properly settled.

Cersei didn't know where they were going, and she didn't care, she was with Jaime, and nothing else mattered.

She felt her eyelids drooping, lulled by the steady stride of the galloping horse, supported by Jaime, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Jaime gently woke her up by kissing her as dawn broke, and she understood that they had arrived at Lannisport.

He brought her down, took their belongings, and with his free hand grabbed Cersei's hand.

He took her behind an old fisherman's hut that was falling apart, and said to her:

''I'm taking you away from here. You don't want to marry a lord whom Father will choose for you, and I don't want to either. So we are leaving. We'll get married, if you want, and we can both live happily, without anyone knowing who we are, and...''.

He didn't have time to finish his sentence when Cersei pressed her lips to his own in a passionate kiss, which was all the answer he needed.

They got on the first boat they could find, and Jaime sneaked them on board.

When they were installed in the hold of the boat, hidden by large wooden crates, Cersei's back leaning against Jaime's chest as he closed his arms around her in a protective embrace, she turned her head, and raised her beautiful emerald eyes towards him:

"Jaime?''

"Yes?''

"Where exactly are we going?''

"I have no idea, my love. The wind will carry us.''

With those words, with those four little words that were in Cersei's eyes the most beautiful promise, Jaime kissed her on the cheek, and she huddled even more against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	18. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Bath''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading !

When she closed the wooden door behind her, coming out of King Robert's apartments, Cersei sighed, feeling tears coming to her eyes.

She had held them back, her tears, all the while the pig that called himself king had slumped all its weight on her, stinking of wine, as usual.

She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had hurt her in any way.

She was a lioness. He was a deer.

Did the predator bow to his prey?

She wasn't going to cry.

Not in front of Robert.

Cersei moved quickly through the maze of corridors in the Red Keep.

Robert's semen, mixed with the blood he had made her lose when he forced himself inside her, was still on the top of her pale thighs, running down her alabaster legs.

She was almost running now, with only one thing to look forward to: being alone, and above all, thinking about something else.

She wouldn't forget.

She would never forget.

But she had to try not to think about it anymore.

Cersei hoped that the knight guarding her door would not ask any questions.

Or better yet, that it would be Jaime.

The gods had obviously not listened to her prayers, and it wasn't her brother who was at her bedroom door.

Barristan Selmy bowed respectfully as she passed by, and looked at her with a worried look on her face, but said nothing.

Once she was alone, she didn't even have the strength to strip off her torn dress, and sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly into the void, a lonely tear rolling down her cheek.

She didn't hear the door open and close behind her back.

* * *

Jaime knew.

He knew that Robert had demanded that Cersei be with him tonight.

He could not protect Cersei from Robert.

The prerogatives of the Kingsguard were to protect the King and Queen.

But not to protect the queen from the king.

However, it was not the oath made to the Seven on the day he received the white cloak that kept him from giving Robert what he deserved for daring to hurt his Cersei.

It was the oath made to his twin sister.

She had made him promise not to try anything against Robert.

Cersei.

Which he wouldn't do for her.

He loved her with all his being, from their first breath, before their first breath, more than words could ever describe.

In a way, it warmed his heart to know that if she had asked him to do nothing, it was because she didn't want him to suffer the consequences. Because she loved him too much for that. That's what she had told him, and even without her saying it, Jaime knew it.

Because she loved him, she let herself be abused.

But if Jaime couldn't protect Cersei from the boar, he had to be there for her afterwards. He always would be.

Just like he was going to be now.

He had told Ser Barristan that he would replace him for the night, and the knight agreed without question.

After the other man left, Jaime opened the door gently, so as not to wake Cersei if, by some miracle, she had managed to fall asleep after what she had just gone through.

She wasn't asleep.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, with her back to him.

He approached her and, sitting beside her, took her in his arms.

When she leaned against him, her face buried in his chest, she finally let out a sob, letting all the tears she had held back flow freely.

Jaime said nothing. He just hugged her tightly, swinging with her gently, rubbing slow circles on her back with his hand, hoping to soothe her a little, and kissed her on the top of her head, stroking her hair.

When she had calmed down, she gently pulled herself away from the embrace.

With his thumbs, he wiped away the tears from his sister's beautiful pale face. Still without a word, he moved back a little and then made her stand up.

Seeing that the bathtub was still full of warm water, he gently undressed her, taking the opportunity to note every mark he could see. To one day put Robert through as much as he had put the love of his life through.

He kissed her on the purple bruises and then, taking her by the hand, helped her into the bathtub.

Once in the water, she sighed deeply.

Jaime grabbed some soap and began to gently rub the sticky liquid mixture on her thighs.

Seeing that she was gradually relaxing, he continued to rub her whole body, kissing her from time to time on her temple, cheek, shoulder or neck.

When the water became cold, he helped her out. Neither of them had spoken. They didn't need to.

He dried her, and then led her to his bed, where he lay down beside her.

She came and huddled close to him, and he hugged her, bringing her even closer, hoping to make her feel loved and protected, always rubbing her back, watching her eyelids get heavier, dragging her little by little to a place where Robert never touched her, where she married Jaime, where they were happy.

_Together._

Jaime kissed her on the forehead, and swore for the umpteenth time that if he couldn't protect her, he should at least be there for her. Always.

After a while, Cersei moved in her sleep, and Jaime was afraid it was because of a nightmare, but she moved even closer to him, resting her head on his chest.

He smiled tenderly, and even though he wasn't sure she could hear him, he said the magic words to her again.

_I love you._

If he could not be her husband and king, so be it.

But he could be her knight, her lover, her protector.

And he would be. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	19. Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Adult''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading !
> 
> Context : AU – Canon Divergence – S02E09, ''Blackwater''

The heat is heavy in the large room, stifling, as if more people were crammed into the throne room of the Red Keep than it can hold, when no, there are only them, the queen and the little prince, the lioness and her lion cub, trapped by the deer's assaults.

A silence of death reigns in the hall, the silence of death that floats, that floats permanently, and that could end up falling on them like a vulture.

Cersei, sitting on the Iron Throne with Tommen, clutches a small bottle between her fingers.

She, too, holds death in her pale hand.

She tells a story to Tommen, to her little lion cub, a story that even she does not believe. But, at the same time, she stopped believing in stories a long time ago, a long, long time ago, so long ago that she doesn't even know if she ever really believed them.

Just when she promises her son that she will always keep him safe, always, because that's what lionesses do, they protect their cubs, no matter what, and she is a lioness, not a common doe, the door opens with a bang.

Cersei rises with a start, tightening her grip on Tommen, ready to stand right in front of him to protect him from her body if necessary, and knights in armor enter the room, and she cannot recognize them because of their helmets.

But it is when her father enters the room and announces with a triumphant air that the battle is over, that they have won, that she sees him.

The bottle falls. Death has spread, but not to them. The lions have won, the lions have triumphed over the crowned stag, once again.

At the very moment Cersei sees him, she thinks her heart is going to stop, he who was beating a little before, because of the anguish of the approaching death, so close that she could almost have touched it with her fingertips, she even held it between her fingers.

He is right there, behind their father, tall, handsome and strong in his golden armor.

He is there. Jaime, her Jaime, her other half, her soul, has returned.

As soon as she sees him, as soon as she becomes fully aware of his presence, there is no one around them, no one, only them, only them, only them that matter, and that is all Cersei thinks about when she hurtles down the stone steps leading to the Iron Throne, and runs to throw herself into the arms of her brother, her twin, her lover, her mirror, her everything.

He catches her, and makes her swirl in his arms, mocking completely the world around them, all those who look at them.

He's back to Cersei, and that's all that matters. He's back to Cersei, so he's back home.

She leans her head against his shoulder, despite the cold steel, burying her face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent, which even the intoxicating metallic smell of blood and armor cannot hide, while he strokes her hair and holds her as tightly as he can without hurting her.

He's back.

The knight in his golden armor is back to his queen with the golden crown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !  
> Don't hesitate to tell me which is your favorite !


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